Birth
by Dancing Darkness
Summary: The Doctor had always known he was many things, but being a father again wasn't one of them. Set post Doomsday and just after Runaway Bride, part 1 of the Unexpected series.


Hey there! I'm back with a whole new series of little fics, this one is the first, and I haven't even finished my other long-ass fic! What is up with that? Well the other one is almost finished and I've had the idea for this one shot for aaaaages! I was sick of all the fics where Rose had a hidden son - well here's one with a twist! They're probably not going to turn out how you think either!

Anywho, tell me what you think! It still has kinks but has been betad (a difference, I know). My other fic only has a chapter to go and I thought I'd start this now. If you haven't read my other fic please read it! PLEASE!

Well, on with the story!

Allons-y

**----**

**Birth**

It was just after he dropped off Donna, the Runaway Bride. The snow was so beautiful that night, not at all bad for a small amount of atmospheric excitation. The weight of loneliness crushed down on him again and a tear made its way down his lightly freckled cheek. It was all gone now. For awhile he thought he could have it all. She would have stayed with him forever. He should've known; nothing is forever. The curse of the Time Lords. He was better off alone. Always alone.

He tossed his coat onto the coat rack and started up the TARDIS. Her song began to echo as she faded from existence. She was worried for him, her Doctor. The man who had stolen her so very long ago. He was hurting inside and she couldn't help him. It wasn't like all those other times. Something had to be done.

It was as the TARDIS lurched into the Vortex, spinning sedately, that the Doctor noticed something wrong. The TARDIS was unusually slow, a tad less manoeuvrable. He frowned and patted the console soothingly. He sniffed as he squinted at the reading from the hydrokilometer. Nothing unusual. Spatial equivilators were fine. Vortex stabilisers needed a bit of fixing but that was nothing new. Maybe there was some void dust in one of her engines? She certainly didn't need more fuel; they'd only recently been to the Arkheon Threshold for a pit stop. All the same, something was wrong. He could feel it in the intimate connection he had with her.

"What's with you, eh?" he murmured, reaching out to touch the Time Rotor worriedly. "You aren't yourself."

There was a whisper in response, a gentle song that threaded through his mind.

"Well something is wrong," he replied as he moved away and reached for his stethoscope. "You're all out of sync." He put fixed the earpieces and placed the chestpiece, the small metal bit, on the Rotor. He listened closely. He moved it around the cylinder slowly, each time pausing to listen. "You sound tired, how can you be tired? We only just got fuel!"

There was a hum and a distant clanking, a few buttons flashed and the hub light dimmed slightly.

"You've been busy? Busy doing what?" he asked incredulously, listening even more closely. "You've been siphoning energy! A little bit at a time over a long time by the looks of it. Where's it all been going?" He stepped back and fiddled with the controls.

He stopped when there was no answer from the TARDIS. It was completely silent. Not a fitting moved, not a wire twitched. She was being secretive.

"Come on," he asked exasperated, "you might as well tell me! You've been sectioning colossal energy. But where to?" He examined the monitor. His put his glasses and his eyes suddenly went very wide. "How much energy did you need!" he exclaimed. "You've taken enough to fuel yourself for twenty human lifetimes! No wonder you've needed a pit stop so often. I thought you were just getting old."

There was a clang that shook the floor and the Doctor toppled backwards. She hissed angrily. She was not old!

He got back to his feet and straightened the crick out of his back. "There was no need for that," he grumbled as he moved back to the controls. "You still haven't answered my question." He crossed his arms and tapped his foot expectantly.

There was a low tone, like an internet dialling tone, and then nothing.

The Doctor threw up his hands and began to pace. "I don't understand why you won't tell me!"

There was a series of clicks.

He cocked his head, "you're afraid how I'll react? What does that mean?" He put his hands behind his head in annoyance.

There was loud screech, a grind and shudder in response.

He shook a finger at the TARDIS, "don't take that tone with me! I am a perfectly calm and rational individual. Well most of the time. Well, I don't get angry often. Well, not very angry. But that's beside the point!" He leaned heavily against the console and rested his head on the Rotor, listening to it rush. "I'm only worried, you know," he told her.

There was silence again as she considered. There was a shuddering creek as a staircase shimmered into existence in the way things tended to in the TARDIS. The staircase spiralled up into the upper levels, a place he only went to unless he needed a change of clothes. He looked at the Rotor, confused for a moment. Then slowly he ascended the stairs, well slow for him. Only two at a time.

At the top of the stairs the lighting was unusually dim, toned low for some important reason he couldn't tweak out of her. Strangely he was faced with two doors, he'd never had doors up here before. There'd never been a need for them. He moved to open one, only to find it locked. That was odd. He tried the other and it opened into a spacious room he'd never seen before. TARDIS coral wound from the walls into a small ball at the centre, hundreds of strands like an enormous spider's web. The whole thing throbbed with energy.

"Ah," the Doctor hummed in understandings, "this is where it's been going. Using your natural relays too, very clever." He strode forward to it and put on his glasses once more, leaning close to examine it. He even locked the coral. He whistled, "That is a lot of energy," he murmured, rubbing the coral. "But what are you doing?"

There was a loud annoyed tone from the Rotor downstairs.

"Well it isn't obvious to me is it or I wouldn't ask," he retorted.

There was a strange whispering song.

"What do you mean it's 'almost ready?' What have you been doing?" Normally he liked questions, but he liked answers more and she was being unusually stubborn.

Suddenly, with a creek, the very top strand of coral seemed to unravel from around the ball they seemed to be suspending. It slithered away and withdrew into the wall of the TARDIS. The Doctor pulled out his stethoscope again and placed it against the ball at the centre. He stuck out his lip in thought, "you're withdrawing. Whatever you were using all that energy for is done," he commented.

There was a hush again.

"Well maybe I like stating the obvious." He stepped back again.

There was a groan as another tendril of coral retracted. The light dimmed some more as its light vanished. The Doctor didn't move, he steadily watched the coral, curious and worried all at once. Occasionally he ran the sonic screwdriver across its surface, muttering. Time passed, days in fact, and tendrils retracted. Soon the room was dark, the dim light was brightest where it reflected off his glasses, and only the strange ball remained, suspended by the last arms of coral.

The Doctor placed his hand against and was surprised by how warm it was, it thrummed against his fingers. It slowly began to move under his hands, layers of a cocoon drawing back to reveal the butterfly inside. The Doctor stared, his eyes wide. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

Acting on instinct he grabbed a nearby blanket, helpfully provided by the TARDIS, wrapped it up and swept back down the stairs. He squinted a bit as he plunged back out into the bright light from the darkened room. "What is this?" he asked hysterically as he reached the Time Rotor.

There was a low hum in response.

"Well yes I can see that! What did you think you were doing?" he began to pace, still clutching the bundle.

Only a creek answered him.

"I was happy! I am happy! I don't need your help," he was almost shouting. That of course woke the baby up. Large brown eyes opened and blinked away tears as he began to fuss in the Doctor's arms. The Doctor immediately looked down to the bundle and began to rock the baby soothingly. "There, there, hush now," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout." He smiled warmly at the bundle.

Small hands reached out and felt the air. Clear eyes examined him as the baby began to wriggle, trying to get a better view. The TARDIS beeped in the background, "what do you mean he's like me?" the Doctor asked turning. "Better yet where did he come from?"

There was light grinding and shuddering.

"You built a Loom?" the Doctor was incredulous but he never ceased rocking the small bundle. Time Lords didn't breed the same way most other species did; it was akin to cloning but with two people. Sort of. A long ago evolved system when they had first connected with TARDISes. The entire process was carried out by Looms. "You diverted all that power to create your own Loom? Who's DNA did you use?"

There was low tone, as if it thought him a little slow.

"Well I mean I knew he was mine, he's handsome! But who else?" The Doctor looked quizzically at the infant who was clutching at his suit, examining the fabric curiously.

A whisper brushed his mind.

He froze, looking deep into the Rotor. "Rose?" he whispered sadly.

The TARDIS hummed.

"Yes, I liked her too," he paused and looked into those brown eyes. "But that wouldn't work! Humans and Time Lords shouldn't' interbreed. He'll-"

The TARDIS interrupted him with a rattle-shudder.

"Are you sure?" the Doctor whispered as he pulled out his stethoscope one-handed and pressed it gently to the baby's chest, right side and then left. Two sets of heart beats filled his ears. He put the stethoscope on the hub and then pressed his free hand to the infant's forehead. His touch was gentle and he felt an inquisitive reciprocating touch against his mind. Definitely had a telepathic field. He looked to the TARDIS, "you used just enough to make sure that he wasn't a clone but not enough to change his species. You made me both mother and father with a slight mix to quirk the sequencing."

Her silence was confirmation. That and a low creek.

"Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine point five thousandths Time Lord I'd say," the Doctor concluded, studying him. "But look, you can see Rose in the shape of his nose-" he stopped suddenly. Talking about Rose hurt. "I can't look after him," he protested after a moment. "I haven't had a son for centuries!"

There was an angry and loud hiss.

"You're right. I'm the only one who can look after him, the last of our kind," he smiled down at the baby. "There's so much to do to take care of you. So many things to gather. But we'll get by. We always get by." He grinned and the baby grinned back, already imitating his father. He had the same skin tone and the Doctor could already see tufts of identical dark hair.

He cocked his head in thought. The baby copied him. "But what do we call you?" he mused. "You'll have to chose your name yourself of course but that won't happen for seven years at least. And then we've got to find a convenient gap in reality for you to look at. How am I going to do that with the Untempered Schism gone, hm?" He scratched his head thoughtfully and stared to the left.

The TARDIS was silent as she watched them. Her two Time Lords.

He turned eyes back to the bundle in his arms. "I know what I'll call you! You'll take my name, well my true one never to be spoken by any but the two of us, and a fake name all of your own to go by every day," he smiled after a moment. He tapped his finger on his son's nose and the baby giggled, grabbing for it.

The Doctor paused and looked around after a second of gazing into his son's eyes. "Where'd you park us anyway?" he asked. "We certainly aren't where I aiming to be." Making sure his son was secured in his one arm the Doctor tweaked the controls in front of him. He broke out into a huge smile.

He strode to the TARDIS doors and placed a hand on the latch. He paused and looked at his son, who gazed back. He opened the door and walked out into the light ran. He shook his head as it ran down his neck and smoothed his hair. He laughed and turned his face to it, closing his eyes at the feeling of it against his skin. In his arms his son did the same, reaching out with small hands to try and catch it. Frowning when that proved difficult. The Doctor cupped his own hand to catch some drops and shifted his son to the show them to him.

"This is rain," he told him blandly, "they get a lot of that here. It's two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen in liquid form – they call it water. It comes from a build of clouds, evaporated water high above, that becomes so heavy it returns to earth." He dribbled it over his son's forehead and the baby laughed happily. "You're like me," the Doctor told him, highly amused, "You'd enjoy anything."

The rain began to peter out as the Doctor looked at the sky, the clouds pulled back to reveal an enormous curtain of stars. The baby's eyes were also fixed on the sky. "That there," the Doctor began in a quiet tone, "is the moon. Those are stars, suns, burning thousands of lightyears away. But don't worry, I'll take you to see them. There might even come a time when, like my good self, you can name all of them."

The baby seemed to consider this, gurgling happily. He made a grasping motion towards a hill on their left, his eyes turning away from the sky.

The Doctor obligingly carried him over and they found themselves looking down on a city filled with lights. Both of them could hear the faint whispers of noise, cars and people and life. The Doctor smiled brightly, "this is London. It the capital city of Great Britain, that's a country on the planet Earth. A bit small, but she gets by," he laughed.

His son waved a hand, making an odd sound.

"Yes," the Doctor replied, pretending to understand completely, "those lights are like stars aren't they? Their own little Milkyway on the ground. If only it was so pretty in the day time hm?"

He shifted the boy in his arms and turned back to the stars. "All of that's our road, you know. No boss, no tax, just the open sky," he murmured. "There's so much I've got to show you, so much to see. Even I haven't seen it all. Not yet." He stopped, blinking tears away, "maybe we'll see it all together?"

The baby laughed and reached up to touch his father's face fondly. Only hours old and he was showing recognition, intelligence and the beginnings of communication. He was a Time Lord alright.

The Doctor grinned as his son's eyes returned to the stars, growing wide and curious. "Welcome, John Smith, to the universe," he beamed. His son, John Smith, beamed back.

---

The first eight months were difficult. Very difficult. John was very smart and learned incredibly quickly. By the time he was six months old, after observing his father prancing nimbly around the TARDIS controls, he decided he'd give walking a try. Walked near perfectly first time, no need for practice of course. He'd done all the necessary observation. The beginnings of words had spewed forth by the initial week of his eighth month. Nothing too complicated but all in Gallifreyan. The Doctor was working on English though, maybe one day he'd step outside the translation range of the TARDIS? Who knew? As with every father he was very proud of his son, his first word had been 'father' but his second was 'TARDIS'. Just as things should be.

The Doctor realised early on that he'd have to make some adjustments to his lifestyle. No more setting off on the fly. Well not as often as before. He still travelled the planets, as he had always done. As always he was taking someone to see them, but this time it was his own son. The trips were also educational of course. If there was one thing the Doctor could do it was talk and if there was one thing that John couldn't do yet it was talk. The Doctor liked to fill the silences and John liked to listen to the sound of his voice. It was win-win situation.

John slept a lot less than human children, Time Lords tended to. At first it was five hours a night, that faded into two hours a night within three weeks. Now it was more common for him to sleep three hours every few days. He couldn't function on two hours a week like the Doctor but he was getting there. Thankfully this didn't cause too many problems. He didn't cry like human children, instead he would communicate with his father in the only way he could. A series of images and desires beamed from mind to mind. The Doctor had forgotten how invasive the process was and it never failed to jolt him. But at least John didn't fuss.

His intelligence also meant that he was happy to sit and contemplate for hours, work things out alone while his father flew the TARDIS. He sat and slept in a cot made of coral, helpfully provided by the TARDIS and placed next to the seats on her far side. He did of course have his own room, should he want it, but John preferred to spend time with his father and the TARDIS. He was a happy child too, always laughing and grinning like his father.

It was difficult because he still missed Rose and it still hurt that Donna had turned him down. But with John everything was becoming a little better. Taking care of a child alone is still hard, even for a man as brilliant as the Doctor, and yet he found, as he watched John's first steps or as he held him close to the Time Rotor so he could run his small hands over it, that he wouldn't have changed it for the world. It was the same lifestyle, last of the Time Lords and all that, but he wasn't completely alone anymore. Sometimes he did need to get away, as any parent does, but he still wouldn't trade a second.

It was just another Tuesday, well he thought it was at least, and yet again they were in flight. He ran a hand through his thick hair and looked to his left where John lay sleeping soundly, well at least for the moment. He ran a hand over John's already thick growing hair. He'd have to make a change to his introductions maybe? His field specification had definitely expanded so alterations were needed.

"I'm the Doctor," he tried after a moment. "I'm a Time Lord. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Katerborous. I am over nine hundred years old. And, for all intents and purposes, I am a single parent." He smiled and looked deep into the TARDIS.

Now that didn't sound so bad did it?

---

Well, what did you think? Good? Bad? Ugly? Drop me a line and let me know!

Look out for it's sequel! It's called Toasters....hehehehe!

Love you all!

- D


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